Pretty Kitty
by Just-Riley
Summary: He sure is a pretty little kitty. Will he find love?
1. Chapter 1

I don't own Adam or Tommy, or the others!

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><p>I was born with cat ears and a tail. Cliché, but I can't help it. A light blond, to match my natural hair color, my ears sit high on my head. Oddly enough, I was born with normal ears too, but they've never worked. The tail is mainly the same color with a tuft of black at the end.<p>

As you can guess, I've always had to hide these traits. A beanie takes care of the ears, but the tail is a bit tricky. It took a while, but I found that if I wear skinny jeans, the tail can be made to go along the inseam. It takes a while longer to get dressed and it's severely limited my chances with the ladies, but it's all I can do.

I play guitar for a living. Well, I try, but I haven't been having much luck lately. It seems most people don't want a guitarist that looks so emo. Emo. I can't help but roll my eyes at that. It's not like changing the color of my beanie helps. I've tried and it only makes people look at me like I'm stupid. Although, it probably doesn't help that I tend to wear Creepers and make-up. Yeah, that doesn't do anything for me. I also have problems with people thinking I'm gay because of the way I dress, and that's more than a little frustrating. Oh well. I like my sense of style.

I've recently been told about a guy looking for some band mates for a tour. Glamnation. It's a funny name, but it tells me that the guy won't have any problem with make-up on a man. I call in, make an appointment, and start practicing a piece I think he'll like. "Chica Bomb" is one of the sexiest songs I know and, from what I've been told, it sort of goes in line with what this man, Adam Lambert, wants. I just hope he'll look past the clothes.

I walk into the studio and take a seat. There's a guy playing something that sounds like it's supposed to be "Art School Girlfriend", but the dude's tempo is way off. Adam—well I'm guessing it's Adam if the glitter eye shadow is anything to go by—is sitting at the table with a rather round man and trying not to roll his eyes. He's caught the slight lag in the notes. I try to hold in my smile as I look at the other guys waiting.

One looks like a total poser, freshly dyed hair, sloppy make-up that looks like it's his first ever application, and skinny jeans so tight that they left the poor man squirming in his seat. Another is completely covered in mallgoth attire. It's almost amusing how comfortable this guy looks with a collar bearing sharp, three-inch spikes. It's nice to see someone being so cool with themselves.

The last has me balking. He sits there, without an instrument, with a blank stare. He's got guts, but I don't think that'll get him the gig.

Mr. Poser starts up with a mangled version of "Marigold" and is stopped before he can get very far in. It kills me to hear it played by such a hack. Seriously, I have to keep adjusting my beanie to be sure my ears aren't twitching enough to make them obvious. Mr. No-Guitar gets up and walks out about a few seconds into it with a dreamy look on his face. Weirdo.

Mallgoth himself stands up and starts shredding across his guitar. It's no song I've ever heard before, but it really hurts my ears. I lean forward, place my elbows on my knees and press my ears as flat against my head as I can. The strings are squealing with the rapid chord changes and it sounds like the D string is so old it'll break soon if it's not changed.

My mind wanders a bit as I try not to think of the sounds bouncing off the walls and, before I know it, Adam is shaking my shoulder to get my attention. I rise, blushing lightly, and grab my guitar. I plug into the small amp and play a few quick chords to make sure I'm still tuned up. When I hear that they all have that sweet ringing quality that can only be achieved by a perfectly tuned guitar, I look up.

"Go ahead Mr. Ratliff. I'm ready for you." There's a slight glint in Adam's eye when he says this and I smile before tapping out the tempo with my two inch Creepers. I get through the first half of the some before I'm stopped. "That's great, Mr. Ratliff."

"Tommy." He smiles a bit before nodding and repeating my name. "Is there something else you want to hear?"

"No, I just have a question or two." I nod a bit to let him know I'm all for it and he asks the first one, "Do you play any other instruments?"

I feel my brow furrow, "Not really."

The smile on Adam's face fades before he asks, "Would you be ok with learning bass? Monte here is my guitarist and I just didn't have the heart to tell y'all." He gestures to the rounded man and I nod quickly.

"Of course."

"Cool! I look forward to working with you." He stands up abruptly and I start to pack up. After he's gone, I pull off my beanie and let my ears air out a bit. They twitch slightly at a noise just outside the door and I rush to pull the covering back on, but am too late. Adam walks back into the room and sees one of my ears. He stops dead and stares at me.

"I'm sorry! I really should go." I shove the hat onto my head and start to jog out the door before I realize I've left my guitar lying on the table. I turn around and grab it, only to turn back around and run right into the singer. He's got a weird look in his eyes and I can't stop the flinch when he raises a hand to pull the hat off of my head.

He looks at my ears with almost a look of wonder playing across his face before he speaks. "Are they real?"

"Yeah." His fingers play across them and I'm frozen in place. He looks down at me and smiles.

"You'll be my pretty little kitty on the bass, then." Adam leans in a bit and presses a quick kiss to my cheek before turning around to leave the room. He calls back over his shoulder, "First practice right in here on Tuesday at ten. You be sure to be here, alright, Glitterbaby?"

Pet names. I've got two already and it feels a bit unfair to him so I call out after him, "Of course, Babyboy. You can always count on your pretty kitty to come on time."

He laughs at my silly remark before walking out the door and I feel a fluttering in my stomach. Guess I'll have to think about how he and I will end up, but that can wait for later. Glitterbaby and Babyboy. I think I like that. I slowly make my way out the door, my head full of thoughts of a certain raven haired rocker.


	2. Chapter 2

Practice. It's the first day with the whole band and I've come prepared: new bass in hand, downloaded tablature of a few in their songs in a binder even though I'd already memorized it, and a hand full of picks just in case. I'm Tommy Joe Ratliff, and I am ready.

I arrive a little early and decide to get warmed up. I place a few sheets of tab out on the table and weigh them down with a few picks. Lifting the strap over my head, I look down at my bass with its glossy black body, a scratch-free pick guard, and steel strings that feel smoother than fine silk. Maybe it's the newness of it all, but I feel better about this bass than I ever have about playing one of my guitars. I smile slightly, thinking of how I never would have even tried a bass if it weren't for Adam not telling us that he already had a man for guitar, and start to tune up.

I start out with the bassline to "Fever", letting the low chords fill the air in their weaving patterns to create an almost instant sexually tense atmosphere. My Creepers are tapping out the tempo and my lips mumble the words just loud enough for my feline ears to register. After a few songs, I hear footsteps climbing the stairs and directing themselves towards me. The doorknob to the practice room jiggles a bit and I stop playing, glancing up to see who's coming in. Adam Lambert walks in and I adjust my beanie, pushing it back from where it had ridden low in my forehead.

He cocks a brow at me as he speaks, "Why'd you stop, kitty? You're were doin' great." A faint blush colors my cheeks and I start to play "Strut", my Creepers taping all the way. I can feel him watching me, almost as if he's grading my performance, making sure he picked the right guy to be his bass player. I glance up and see him smirking down at me.

I hadn't realized he was so tall but, now that he's practically towering over me, I notice he's got a good head taller than me. Something in his gaze, mixed with his height is causing me to lose track of the song and I hurry to fix my eyes back on he strings, slowly strumming my way through "Soaked".

"What's with the beanie, kitten?" My eyes flicker towards him at the sound of him advancing on my and I try to remain focused on the song. My ears twitch with nervousness when he stops just to my right, expecting an answer.

I'm half way through "If I Had You" before I answer, "Hides the ears." I forget that I'm supposed to be playing and the bass just hangs from my neck, leaving us in an almost ringing silence, filled only by the noise filtering in through the window from the surface streets.

"Why cover them?" he leans in a bit closer and continues to speak, "Since I know about them, why not just let 'em out for a bit. It's gotta be hell of hot in there." He lifts up his hand and traces an ear through the thick cotton fabric. "Besides, they're kinda cute."

He winks to let me know he's just playing around and pinches the top of the hat, lifting a bit, almost as if he's asking for permission. I reach up and pull the hat off from the side to avoid touching his fingers, leaving his hand to pet at my ears without a barrier.

"So, where is everyone? I could've sworn you said practice was at ten." He smirks and continues to stroke my ears, letting his fingers drift downward to let them play across where they connected to my scalp. I hear a tiny gasp come from him when he feels it, confirming that they are, indeed, natural.

"Well, it's actually not 'til one, but I wanted to get to know you a bit before you had to deal with the band." He's sending a sweet smiling to me in such a sweet way at I can't even be a little annoyed at the fib. I reach down and pull the strap to by bass over my head, forcing him to drop his from my ears, before I move away to drop that glossy bass on the table.

I push it toward the center and sit on the edge, asking him, "Get to know me how?" He moves to stand in front of me, almost between my legs and leans toward me with one hand on my thigh and the other on the table next to me. There's a slight glint in his eye and I realize I'm holding my breath, just a bit.

"Well, I want to know a bit about you, like how you got these ears," he reaches his hand up from the table and strokes one of the furry appendages.

"I was born with them." My voice is low, but I know he'll be able to hear it. I let out a slight purr as he moves to scratch right where my ear and scalp meet.

"How?"

"It was all just there, far back as I can remember." He gets a slightly confused look on his face and I can't help but find it to be terribly adorable. I stand up, knocking his hand from my thigh and am now nearly chest-to-chest with him and reach behind myself to pull my tail from my tight jeans. My tail flicks about a bit before settling down, quickly getting used to the sudden freedom. It curls around me and comes to rest with that black tuft just at his wrist and I sit back down on the table, measuring his reaction.

He's almost grinning at me as he strokes my tail, wonder and amusement sparkling in his ocean blue eyes. I can't quite stop the blush as a look at the floor, staring at my fallen beanie. Nobody had ever touched my tail like this. The girls I slept with thought it was just something that I managed to clip on and they never wanted to ask if it was some sort of kink of mine, too intent on getting laid by a guitarist to a band they thought might get big soon. Adam steps a bit closer and uses the tips of his fingers to tease just behind my ears. A purr loud enough for him to easily hear resonates through my chest, and his hands stutter slightly in their movement before picking up as though nothing had changed. As if this was a normal thing.

"This isn't too weird for you, is it?" His voice is soft and I can tell that he really does want to be sure I'm not uncomfortable.

"Not really. You do this to every guy you meet that has cat ears?" I joke with him a bit, trying to keep the mood light. He chuckles lightly before answering.

"Well, I'm kinda like this with all of my real friends." I glance up swiftly and meet his eyes. "Wanna be my new friend, Kitten?" he almost looks like he thinks I'll say no and storm out, but I can't stop the slight smirk that spreads across my face.

"Sure, Babyboy." He leans forward a bit, closing the slight gap between us and presses a soft kiss to my cheek, just like he had after my audition.

"Good, Glitterbaby." My ears twitch at the sound of people distantly talking about why Adam had scheduled such a late practice and, as they walk up the stairs, Adam drops his hands and steps back just in time for the rest of the band to open the door and walk in.


	3. Chapter 3

Practice went well, I think. The others didn't seem to have any sort of real reaction to seeing my ears and tail out, but I did get a few weird looks. If I hadn't known any better, I'd have thought that they knew what to expect, but hadn't quite believed what they were told. Only once did anyone say anything about them, and that was when Cam said I could leave them out, having seen me start to pull my beanie over my head. It was pretty nice not having to wear it for a few hours.

Monte, the guitarist from the auditions, came right over to me and started to throw questions at me about my experience in bands and with real shows. I stumble over my words trying to look competent, but when Adam interrupted and said that he'd heard me playing Monte let up a bit. I shot him a quick smile in thanks before we got to really practicing.

I slipped up a bit at first, not really used to how they took the songs, but it only took a few bars before we were playing like we'd been a band for years. I really couldn't help but purr a bit when we stopped for a water break, and saw how Isaac's eyes got a bit wide at that, but nobody really seemed to mind. They even started to joke with me, saying stuff like "You were right, Adam. He is such a pretty little kitty," and "Who's a cute kitten?" All in all, it was a lot of fun and we all left a few hours later, laughing and agreeing to meet back in the same room in three day's time.

Just as I was putting my bass in my car, Adam walked up and gave me an almost cheeky grin. "You wanna go grab a bite?" I glanced at my watch and saw that I hadn't eaten in almost six hours.

"Sure. You want me to just follow you?" I asked, motioning to my car.

"Naw, you can ride with me. I'll drop you back here when we're done." I hesitated for a moment and he laughed, "What? I'm not gonna kidnap you. It's just food."

I blushed a bit and nodded, not wanting to seem like a total ass. "Yeah, alright. Where're we goin'?"

"You'll see, kitten." He turned on his heel and practically strutted over to his car, opening the passenger door and looking at me, waiting with a slight smirk on his distractingly beautiful face. I hurried to his side and slipped into the seat before he closed the door behind me, crossing around the front of the car to his own door.

"So, what was with the door thing?" I asked once he had started the car, pulling out of the space with ease.

"Just bein' a gentlemen. I've been told that one should try not to be a total barbarian when he's around new people," there was a slight shine in his eye when he glanced over at me, and it had me wondering if that's what he really meant.

I was really starting to confuse myself. Sure, I'm alright with other people's sexual orientation, but I was a straight guy. I'd kissed and fooled around with a few guys when I was younger, but that was just to see what it was like. It'd never really been something I was into, but I'd done it for laughs. Being next to Adam, I was having my moments of wanting to reach over and lace my fingers with his on the gearshift, or to have leaned forward and kissed him when I'd been sitting on the table.

Don't get me wrong, I don't see guys as hot. I can tell when one's attractive, but I'd never really been actively attracted to one. With Adam, I felt like he was someone I'd be great friends with, but there were moments when I think he was actually flirting with me. Before, I'd have just brushed it off, but I was actually thinking about it now.

I've never wanted to know what it was like to have another man kiss me passionately good night, and look at me with want in his eyes. I've never wanted that.

Well, until now. I think…


	4. Chapter 4

"Taco Bell? That's the big famous man's food of choice?" I can't help but giggle a bit as we pull up and park in front of the fast food joint. I unbuckle my seat belt and go to get out of the car, only to hear the lock click shut. Adam looks over at me, his door already open, and wags a finger at me, as though scolding a child, a playful smirk on his face. I can't help but pout a bit as I sit there, hearing the car unlock and waiting for Adam to open my door.

As he makes his way around the back of the car, I can't help but think about his face. It's gorgeous, even for a man. His lips are full and soft looking; his eyes are such a beautiful blue, a nose that might look odd on any other face, and a strong chin made him beautiful in ways I had never thought a man could look.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound on the car door opening and Adam speaking to me. "Come now, my lady, and we shall feast!" His laughter rings out before I can even pretend to be upset and I quickly get out of the car. My door shuts a bit loudly and we walk toward the building, Adam slightly ahead of me so that he can hold the door, letting me in before him.

"I always thought you famous types ate, like, three crackers and a chunk of cheese a day," I joke at him, standing by his side in line. He really is tall, about a head taller than me, and I can't help but feel like I'm not really there.

"I love food." He doesn't say anything else, but I can see a small smile on his face.

We stand there and wait, my hand occasionally reaching up to scratch at my ears under the beanie, slowly moving up the line. When we reach the register, he places his order and looks to me expectantly. It takes a second before I realize he intends to buy my food, and I start to argue that I can do it when he thumps my shoulder, a silent order to just hush up and choose something.

"I guess I'll have the two chalupas…or…no, yeah. That's what I want." I can feel Adam looking at me like I'm a dork and one of my ears twitches minutely under my cap. The cashier takes Adam's money and gives us each our plastic cups. I hear a snicker as I make my way straight to the nozzle for Mountain Dew and can't help turning to stick my tongue out at him like a child. "Don't judge."

He smirks lightly, and it colors his voice, "Too late, babe." He gets his soda, two lids, straws, and a handful of different sauces before sitting at the table in the corner, looking at me with a sort of amused expectation in his eyes.

Shuffling in place for a moment, I grab another napkin and make my way over to him. His eyebrow raises itself in an attempt to become acquainted with his hairline as he watches me set my soda on the napkin before reaching toward me. It's odd, watching him place the lid on my drink and strip the straw before driving it home. I'm not really used to having anyone do that sort of stuff. Maybe he's like this with everyone.

"Now, why can't I buy my own food? You think I'm poor or something?" My ears are twitching regularly now, annoyed at my own ideas.

"No, I just wanted to treat you." He's smiling at me in a way that makes a slight dusting of color paint my cheeks, and his smile only grows in playfulness when he spots the tinted flesh.

I start to eat and try to think about something other than the confusingly attractive man sitting across from me, but I can still feel his eyes as they linger on my face. I let my eyes flick up to rest on his every few seconds, waiting for him to say something that might make this normal, but nothing comes. He sits there calmly and watches me. I know this should be weird, know that this should make me uncomfortable, but I can't help feeling at ease with him. Maybe it's because he knows about me.

My phone vibrates against my leg and I check the screen, seeing a message from my long time friend, Megan. Apparently, she was a bit miffed at me for missing her wedding ceremony to some guy named Miles. Whatever. I'll meet the guy later. I set my phone on the table next to my food and start to get up, only to feel Adam's hand resting lightly on my wrist.

"You runnin' away now, Glitterbaby?" He's playing around with me, but it almost looks like he's a bit worried, like he thinks I'm just going to walk out and never look back.

"No."

"So? Where're you headed?" It's almost annoying, but I can't help but find a bit of cuteness in the insecurity.

"I have to piss." He snorts and takes his hand from mine, turning his eyes to his food for the first time. I start to walk away, glancing back for a second to see him opening the box to his Mexican pizza. I hadn't realized that he'd not eaten yet, having chosen instead to watch me. That really should have creeped me out, but it just seemed like something he'd do without thinking.

The bathrooms are kind of nasty. They smell like soap residue and the light is dingy, just bright enough to keep me from thinking that a slasher flick was about to take place. I rush a bit in taking care of my business, thankful that there are no other people in the room with me.

Washing my hands, I look in the mirror and see my face for the first time all day. I'm a bit pale, my eye shadow is almost worn completely off, and my beanie is lopsided. Fucking short, fat tube sock. My hands reach up and straighten the material over my head before ripping it off. I let my hair fall a bit in front of my face before hastily pulling the cap back over my head, hiding my protrusions.

Well, that's a bit better. I run my damp fingers through my fringe before standing before the automated paper towel dispenser. I wave a hand over the sensor, only to feel like the world's worst Jedi when it doesn't react. After a few tries, I give up and wipe my hands across the fronts of my skinny jeans. Close enough.

I walk out, squinting a bit as my eyes reach the fluorescents of the main 'restaurant'. Adam's finished his food, and I really can't bring myself to make him sit there with me while I finish it, so I ask the woman behind the counter for a bag. With a slightly reluctant look, Adam stood with me and walked out, holding the door for me again.

I slip into the car; door again open for me, and wait for the black haired man to join me. When he does, we drive in silence. It's not uncomfortable, but it is a bit heavy. My mind is racing, and it takes me a few minutes to realize that we've sopped. I glance around and see that we're not outside of the rehearsal building. I'm home. He drove me home.

"Adam?" I look to him for answers, only to see him smile before getting out. He's getting out? Does he think he's coming up? What about my car?

The door opens next to me and I get out and walk up the driveway next to the taller man without really thinking. We stop in front of my door and he turns to me. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"How? My car's back in that parking lot."

He smiles a bit before answering, his hand reaching up to brush my hair behind my human ear. "I'll pick you up at nine."

I'm stuck there for a second, "Practice isn't until one."

"So?" He's smirking now, mischievous and gleeful, his thumb brushing my cheek. He turns, leaving me at my door. Before I can speak he's back in his car, driving away from me.

I stand there for a few seconds before unlocking my door and stepping inside. Just as I turn the deadbolt to secure the door, my phone vibrates in my pocket again. I check it and can't quite keep the small smile from my lips as I pull my beanie off and my tail from my pants, ears fluttering free and tail wiggling a bit.

_'I'll see you tomorrow at nine, Glitterbaby. Hope my pretty little Kitty sleeps well.'_ The contact name is "Babyboy".


End file.
